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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685819">Gym Buddies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover'>purple_bookcover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Gyms, hapistance - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:47:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Constance wants to go work out at the gym. For no reason. No particular reason at all. Definitely not because of the hot trainer she sees there all the time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hapi/Constance von Nuvelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gym Buddies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, I love them and think they should have more content.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Constance peeked around the edge of her bedroom door, scanning the apartment.  </p>
<p>All clear. Nothing but late-morning sunlight and an empty living room. No sign of anyone sleeping on the couch or rummaging around in the kitchen. No movement at all.</p>
<p>She slipped out, dragging a duffel bag with her. It caught on the lip, rattling the door, the sound loud in the otherwise silent apartment.</p>
<p>Constance cringed, yanking the bag free and throwing it over her shoulder. </p>
<p>Too late. Balthus poked his head out of the other bedroom. “Constance? Everything OK?” </p>
<p>“F-fine. Everything's fine.” She hurried toward the door, hoping it was still too early for him to be coherent. Too early, in Balthus' case, being nearly noon. </p>
<p>No such luck. She heard him leave his room, his bulky frame following her into their shared living space. </p>
<p>“Is that a gym bag?” he said.</p>
<p>
  <i>Goddess, why? Why?</i>
</p>
<p>Constance drew herself up, facing her roommate. “Whatever do you mean by that?” </p>
<p>“It is a gym bag,” Balthus said. “Constance, are you… are you going to the gym?” </p>
<p>“And so what if I am? Can I not take an interest in my physical health without being questioned at every turn?” </p>
<p>Balthus was roaring with laughter before Constance even finished. She'd been able to sneak out unnoticed the past five times, but he'd caught her at last. </p>
<p>Balthus scrubbed the tears from his face, catching his breath. “Who is she?” </p>
<p>“Excuse me?” </p>
<p>“Oh, come on,” Balthus said. “We've been friends for years and roommates for months. There's no way you're gonna tell me you're going to the gym for fun. So. Who is she?” </p>
<p>“I—” </p>
<p>Constance bit down on the rest of what she might have said, grinding her teeth to clench back a wave of indignation. </p>
<p>“Incorrigible!” she said. </p>
<p>She spun on her heel, exiting the apartment and slamming the door on the laughter that chased her out.</p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>#</p>
</div><p>Constance took more than a couple steadying breaths in her car after parking outside the gym. Gods, what was she doing here? <i>Again</i>. Her manicure was chipping. Her designer yoga pants were getting far more sweaty than anyone had ever intended. Her hair was bound up and restrained in a ponytail.</p>
<p>She checked the rearview mirror. Her makeup was impeccable, for what that'd soon be worth. </p>
<p>Constance let out an especially hefty sigh. This was ridiculous. </p>
<p>And yet... </p>
<p>She got out of the car, dragging the duffel bag with her. The woman at the front desk smiled at her when Constance swiped her shiny new membership card. </p>
<p>She put her bag in a locker and slinked off to a stationary bike. Something easy, something safe. She could pedal halfheartedly while flipping through texts and not even smudge her eyeliner. </p>
<p>But then <i>she</i> walked in. </p>
<p>Constance's pedaling slowed to a crawl. The trainer crossed the gym, her bright purple sports bra exposed by the loose tank top over it. Constance's eyes traced every curve and ridge of taut shoulder muscle, down lean, strong arms, past the flash of bright red bike shorts that left thick thighs and flexing calves exposed as the trainer walked right up to Constance.</p>
<p>“Back for more, huh?” Hapi said, looking down at Constance on the bike.</p>
<p>“I...” Constance had to swallow around a lump. “Well, I had an appointment, did I not?”</p>
<p>“Sure did,” Hapi said. “Half expected you to no-show, though.” </p>
<p>“Well, I didn't.”</p>
<p>“Great.”</p>
<p>Constance should have been affronted, outraged, even. But Hapi turned away and strode toward the weight machines in those tight little bike shorts and it was all Constance could do to keep from drooling. </p>
<p>She shook herself, but it was too late. The damage was done. She was utterly hopeless.</p>
<p>
  <i>Oh goddess, just let me get through this and I'll never come back. I swear.</i>
</p>
<p>She'd made herself the same promise on every visit since that first “trial workout” that had unfortunately paired her with the beautiful trainer. And despite her shame and sore muscles, she'd returned over and over and over. </p>
<p>Constance slid off the bike and followed Hapi to a leg press. </p>
<p>“Since you're warmed up from the bike, we'll start here today,” Hapi said. </p>
<p>Constance followed her instructions, dutifully pushing against the weight of the machine. The strain of the exercise almost cleared Constance's head—almost. But then Hapi moved to her side, correcting her form, her soft, firm voice close at Constance's ear. </p>
<p>“Not bad,” Hapi said. “We're already upping the weight a little.” </p>
<p>Not bad, she claimed. Not bad. Then why was Constance's entire body quivering? </p>
<p>Hapi guided her through a couple other leg-based exercises: Squats, lunges, some weird stepping motion that involved holding weights for some reason. </p>
<p>Constance's thighs were burning by the end of it, but she knew this was the easy part. Any moment Hapi would switch gears and—</p>
<p>“Let's work on some arms and shoulders,” Hapi said.</p>
<p>Constance's heart plummeted into her shoes. </p>
<p>They started simple: Planks and pushups performed with Hapi gently tweaking Constance's form. </p>
<p>“Butt down,” Hapi said. “Don't cheat.” </p>
<p>“I'm not cheating,” Constance grit out.</p>
<p>Hapi tapped at the small of Constance's back, encouraging her to get her butt lower for her plank. That fleeting touch sent heat through Constance's whole body. She hoped Hapi attributed the flush in her face to the exertion of the exercise. </p>
<p>“Not bad for a warm up. Now let's really work those arms.”</p>
<p>Constance could have sworn she saw Hapi smirk before the trainer headed for the weight rack. </p>
<p>Hapi selected a pair of 7.5 pound dumbbells. She presented them to Constance, who accepted them with a sinking dread. </p>
<p>“This weight was pretty easy for you last time, but let's just make sure it wasn't a fluke, eh?” Hapi winked to punctuate the statement. </p>
<p>Something fluttered in Constance's chest, like a flock of birds beating against her rib cage. “S-sure.”</p>
<p>“T-arms,” Hapi said. “Ten reps. And go.”</p>
<p>Constance lifted the weights in front of her, then extended her arms out to a T shape. She brought the weights down to her sides, then lifted them back up to a T shape to start the process all over again. </p>
<p>After only four reps, Hapi stopped her. “Yeah, way too light,” Hapi said. “Try these instead.” </p>
<p>Hapi switched the 7.5 dumbbells for 10 pounders. Constance felt trepidation crawl up her spine. But when Hapi instructed her to restart her T-arms, she hastened to comply, taking the dumbbells up and out as instructed. </p>
<p>Her arms were burning by the time she finally reached 10, but Hapi's smirk had eased into a smile. She looked like she knew some secret about Constance that she was refusing to tell. It made Constance terrified—terrified and hopeful. </p>
<p><i>Stop it!</i> she chided herself. </p>
<p>“Overhead extensions,” Hapi said, giving Constance a new dumbbell. “We're upping the weight on this, too.”</p>
<p>Constance groaned.</p>
<p>“No complaining,” Hapi said. “You volunteered for this, remember?”</p>
<p>OK, sure. That was technically true. And Constance couldn't exactly explain that she wasn't here for the workout itself, strictly speaking. If it weren't for the lean muscle peeking out of that tank top, the way that bright red hair matched Hapi's shrewd eyes, the curve of waist meeting hips and thighs, Constance would certainly not be grunting and sweating and lifting this damned dumbbell over her head. But she couldn't tell Hapi that. It would be... beyond humiliating. </p>
<p>Better to suffer in silence; better to say nothing at all and crawl home sore and ashamed to stand in a cold shower and wonder how her life had taken such a ridiculous turn.</p>
<p>“Time for the bench.”</p>
<p>The statement fell like a hammer blow. “Are-are you sure?” Constance said.</p>
<p>“Don't pout,” Hapi said. “I'll spot you the whole way. Come on.”</p>
<p>Constance swallowed hard before reclining on the bench. She tried to focus on the barbell above her as Hapi adjusted the weights. </p>
<p>Then Hapi stood right over her. Constance couldn't help but look up and see that gorgeous, toned body above her. She knew Hapi's thighs were on either side of her head, so close, yet just out of reach. </p>
<p>“Let's try a few reps,” Hapi said. “Ready?” </p>
<p>Constance nodded. “Yes, I think so.”</p>
<p>She followed Hapi's instructions, gripped and pushed to the rhythm of her cool, calm voice. Hapi always gave Constance the same instructions in the same order. It was like a song or a poem. “Feet firm. Grip the barbell. Down toward your chest. Push up. Strong. Back down. Strong.” </p>
<p>Constance didn't feel particularly strong just then. Rather, she felt weak as a leaf battered around in a storm, desperately clinging to a branch, trying to hold on to something, anything, that might tether her to reality. </p>
<p>But it was difficult with Hapi so close, her voice guiding Constance through the exercise, her strong arms tensed, poised to help should anything go awry. Constance almost wanted to drop the bar on purpose, let it crush her until Hapi swept in, dragged her free, held her close. </p>
<p>“OK, that's good.”</p>
<p>Constance blinked. She'd hardly felt the exercise, her mind so far away she was honestly surprised when Hapi told her to stop. </p>
<p>She made to get up, but Hapi crouched beside the bench, speaking close to Constance's ear. </p>
<p>“You're really strong, you know that?” Hapi said. “Way stronger than you have any right to be.”</p>
<p>“I... am?” It was just gym talk, Constance told herself. Just silly gym talk. So then why did she feel pinned in place, incapable of putting any distance between herself and Hapi?</p>
<p>“For a newbie, you're a real natural,” Hapi said. “That crazy raw strength of yours is impressive. It could really be something if you took it seriously and worked on it.” </p>
<p>“I... I am taking it seriously,” Constance said. Goddess help her, why was she suddenly whispering? </p>
<p>“Hm,” Hapi said. “Are you?” </p>
<p>Constance von Nuvelle was absolutely not going to back down from such a blatant challenge. “Yes, in fact, I am.”</p>
<p>“Alright then,” Hapi said. “Let's up the weight and go again.”</p>
<p>“Fine.”</p>
<p>“Fine.” </p>
<p>They did just that. And though Constance's arms trembled by the 10th rep, she grit her teeth and pushed through, completing all 12 and setting the barbell back down victoriously. </p>
<p>She sat up, smug even through her sweat-smeared makeup. Constance expected a snide remark, a jab of some sort. But when she looked to Hapi, the trainer was smiling.</p>
<p>She gave Constance a little nod. “You're damn strong. Good work.” </p>
<p>Constance blinked, off guard. Her chest tightened around the compliment as though trying to hug it into her body to save for later. “Thank you.” </p>
<p>Hapi glanced at a wall clock. “We can call it there for today. Don't forget to drink lots of water and eat a good meal. And stretch. You'll be in even more pain tomorrow if you don't stretch out.” </p>
<p>“I presume I can use the facilities for stretching?” Constance said.</p>
<p>Hapi shrugged. “You paid to be here. Stretch wherever you want. There's a yoga room in the back that might be good for it.” </p>
<p>“Very well.” </p>
<p>Hapi offered her a sly smile. “See ya around, Constance.” </p>
<p>Hearing Hapi utter her name made those birds trapped in her chest flutter again, so Constance simply nodded, watching the trainer walk away to greet her next client. </p>
<p>Constance shuffled to the yoga room. Mats and bands and blocks sat on shelves around the room. Constance grabbed a mat and laid it out on the floor as far as she could get from the only other person present. </p>
<p>She made an attempt at stretching. Hapi had shown her a few things once. Something called “eagle” that she was sure she must be getting wrong. Also a “pigeon” that was comfortable to sit in for a minute or two. Why were all these things named after birds? </p>
<p>But as her body, and heart, cooled down from the workout, Constance's attempts at stretching faltered. She kept glancing out of the room, back toward the weight rack where Hapi was instructing a new client working on bicep curls. The new client was stunning. Constance's heart sank. Hapi probably dealt with beautiful people all day, every day. She probably got to see and touch so many clients who were stronger and more toned than Constance herself, people who'd been coming to this gym for years and had the physiques to prove it. </p>
<p>Constance glumly gave up on her stretches. This whole excursion was just making her depressed. </p>
<p>She hurried to the locker room, grabbing her bag. She'd drive home smelly and shower off later. Right now, she just wanted to get far away from this damn place. </p>
<p>Hapi blocked her exit. </p>
<p>Constance stopped short, mere feet from the door but incapable of moving. She gripped her duffel bag against her chest, knuckles going white.</p>
<p>Hapi stepped right up to her. </p>
<p>“Planning to book another appointment?” Hapi said. </p>
<p>Goddess, how she didn't want to do another horrible workout. But when Hapi asked her... when Hapi asked...</p>
<p>Constance hesitated, torn between her desire to be near Hapi again and her deep, deep dread of lifting another weight or barbell even once more. “I don't know,” she managed.</p>
<p>Hapi snorted a laugh, then stepped close enough to lean in and whisper. </p>
<p>“You know,” she said, “if you want to see me that badly you don't have to keep coming here and torturing yourself.” </p>
<p>Constance froze, eyes going wide. Hapi eased away, smiling, relaxed, waiting. Constance felt all the blood drain from her face, even as heat flushed up her neck all the way to the tips of her ears. </p>
<p>“I—” Constance had no idea how to finish her own sentence.</p>
<p>“Let's get tea.” </p>
<p>“Tea?” </p>
<p>“Yeah, you know, tea,” Hapi said. “Hot. Smells nice. Occasionally tastes pretty good. Tea. Seems more your speed than a gym.” </p>
<p>Constance was sure she was going to tear her duffel bag from how tightly she was clutching it. “Are-are you serious?” <i>Or are you just messing with me? Is this some cruel joke?</i> Constance wasn't sure she could stand it if it was the latter. </p>
<p>Hapi's smile softened, turning earnest, almost sad. “I am completely serious. But if this is too forward... I know it's a bit unprofessional, but I thought I was reading the signs right. Please don't tell me you've been blushing at someone else all this time.”</p>
<p>“I haven't,” Constance said quickly, far too quickly. “I mean, I...”</p>
<p>Hapi's smile brightened. “Tea then?” </p>
<p>“Y-yes,” Constance said. “Yes, I'd like that. I'd... I'd love that.” </p>
<p>“It's a date.” </p>
<p>When Constance left the gym that day, she felt light, weightless. She could hardly feel her legs as she floated back to her car, driving home wearing sweaty yoga pants and a grin that refused to fade.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm on <a href="https://twitter.com/purplebookcover">Twitter</a> (18+ please).</p>
<p>I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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